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Marty T Ottman Apr 2018
When I stare into the stars they remind me of how you illuminated my entire world,  before the sky got so tired cause it's left in the reflection​ you imprinted​ it with. These days grow longer reminding me how all the beauty is precious before taken for granted.   Than it doesn't refuse to break through..  As season may change the reason that mark just  exactly everything in this heart.   Leaving the pluses​ absently  beating in your presence.  The ocean may collide with its heavy blue waves crashing but doesn't quite compare to these eyes that collided with my soul that lit up the darkest depths deep within.   Everything taints in your reflection cause I doesn't surpass the beautiful unique  soul that stood before my eyes..  Even in the most concealing disguise  she will shine ever so bright an that right there was my light..  An  nothing could dim such a twin flame that could never drain..  Even if its ever taken away.  In my heart chained down in your reflection..  The truth that steers my direction
Another hopeless poem x.x
Marty T Ottman Jan 2017
They  say I should  smile but it's quite not my style but I have to admit it's been quite the while.  Miserably painted, but not quite tainted.   Precisely  waiting. When the whole scene quit hating on fragile  things as it seems.   The strength to stand, to understand the reason how such events may occur revolving all you thought you embraced, faced. Without a trace you erase the value of what it could be worth deep within.    Beneath the skin. Where a majestically  beautiful world, a universe lies.  Many disguise, other wise to harmonize what shines that intertwines  at the core.  That they ignore, how extraordinary with the things behind the eyes.  My concept may be  in ordinary of what truly lies beneath your surface.   The thing we call purpose instead of a limited burden inside of him.
Many don't see beyond their apprehension.
Lonesome and stressed
Derived
From pure hopelessness
A plague
Of misery and loss
This populous city
Is endemic at best
As if gangrenous
Hands would caress
The eyes of the unknowing
Whilst the eyes themselves
Pierce through hearts and minds

...Everyone is welcome
Where no one is wanted...


Man's guile swallows me
Like a plume of smoke
He's suffocating on diesel
She's getting high on two-stroke
Light headed and confused
Sickening and well, just samey
A commuter on life support
With a twisted ankle
A mother on the school run
With a ****** nose
Surreal.
Something new for me. Dare I say a 'weird' style?

— The End —